Spare Moments
by CrazyKatChan07
Summary: Movieverse - post IM2 - Tony has convinced Pepper that their relationship means something, and she moves in. What kind of lives will that cause them to lead? Some strong language and sexual innuendo. Rating may change.
1. Chapter 1 Nights

Author's Note – After reading just about every Iron Man fic I could get my hands on, I felt the need to give the world my own little take. Just cute moments stuck in my head, really. Nothing like good, hard, spicy Pepperony.

Maybe I shouldn't have moved in.

It had made perfect sense earlier. Less money to pay on rent or utilities that came out of my already sizable paycheck. Well, really the money had nothing to do with it. It was just cutting out the middle man. I already spent all of my time here as it was, so it made sense to stop wasting money and just occupy the space as not just another guest, but as another resident. It wasn't like he didn't have more than enough space for himself.

The funny thing was that he acted like nothing had changed. That I hadn't taken over one of the guest rooms I normally used and made it my own, other than sleeping in the bed. All three of the closets in his bedroom were taken, so I had to steal what I could find. Even with the lavish and unnecessarily deep walk-ins he had built into the modern home, he used 3 and I had taken over 3 myself.

That was why I found him in his bathroom with an electric saw one evening. He was cutting out the wall between one of my closets and his overly-sized luxurious master bathroom suite. Even though he did receive the worst scolding from me possible for getting drywall dust all over my designer clothing, I saw that he did it in an act of compromise. It wasn't something he decided to do because he saw it as another project to amuse himself or make himself look better to the world. He cut out a wall to bring me closer into the relationship. He was willing to give up space for me. He was sharing – something he had never been very keen on.

It really started hitting me when I would come home, whatever time of night it may be – 6, 7, 10, 12, - and he would be sitting there on the couch, laid back and watching TV with a nightcap like someone would expect from any man in America. Sure, any man in America wouldn't be wearing Italian denim smeared in whatever grease or compound he could find downstairs to make himself dirty, but he seemed to act the part. I wondered sometimes if he had hidden some kind of tracking device in my Audi that he bought me. Nonetheless, he was a happy boyfriend to come home to, and I looked forward to whatever Tony I was greeted with every night.

If it was early enough, I brought dinner. If it was too late, he had it there waiting, cold and hiding in the microwave or burn-my-tongue hot. I felt like I came home every night instead of a kind-of odd feeling I was afraid I would have. That this wasn't my home, it was just the stopping point between my bed and the decently sized apartment I had rented for almost a decade. But it felt much more like home than that little place had.

Most nights I went to sleep alone. I ate, read emails, watched a little TV before hiding in the confines of his simplistically decorated and oversized bedroom. The view outside over the disappearing span of beach was always a pleasure to stare at while I thought about the day or whatever oddities had transpired in the small time I had had with him downstairs. Mostly it involved some sort of flirts with small kisses hidden between quips and chiding one another. He complained that I didn't care for myself enough. I complained that he should stop being a hypocrite. That usually ended the subject before something completely unrelated came through his mind and out his well-polished teeth.

Without a regular desk job anymore, he seemed so much happier. Sure, my mental and physical state paid for it, but I was good at what I was doing. He asked polite questions about how everything was going, and he didn't butt in terribly. He had never been interested in the suits and business talk anyway. He was, as Obadiah had seen it – the cash cow of the corporation. He created the ideas, the company paid to built them, and the company sold them for pretty pennies that went right back to him to restart the cycle. Put him in the desk, and it became he creates the idea, goes to a meeting, gets horribly bored, gets into some kind of fight with a board member, and then everyone's unhappy at the same time. It made the most sense to cut out the middle man. I was doing his work as it was before – why not just get it over with and bypass him altogether?

It also made the ability for us to have a relationship so much easier. The press were fishing hard for the story and the pictures to prove, but we kept so tightly inside the house anymore that it wasn't a problem. We had gone out on a few small dates here and there to dinner, but the correct amount of money in the correct hands can cover things easier than a normal person would expect. There had been pictures of us out together at fundraisers and whatnot, but, as hard as the rag writers tried, they couldn't get a proven relationship out of what they had.

I moved in because it made sense.

A night where I came home to abject darkness frightened me. Jarvis greeted me as usual, and immediately told me that Tony was not in the mansion. It was odd that for so long he would be sitting waiting for me, and for the first night in so long, not only was he not waiting, but he was completely devoid of the house.

"Jarvis, do you know where he went?" I called as I walked up the cascading steps to the upstairs story to dispose of my daytime clothing in change for an old t-shirt and some slippers.

"Mister Stark did not authorize that information. He did leave within the suit, however."

The one thorn in my side in this entire relationship had been that suit. Not that I didn't see the reason why it existed, or why Tony felt the need to occasionally gallivant around the world in it, but when he came home was never a pretty sight. I was happy when he came home semi-conscious and only bruised in most places of his body. The nights where he crash-landed covered in his own blood were the ones that made me wish I had never entered this relationship.

Or moved in, for that matter.

After finishing some leftover pizza in the fridge and watching my daily ritual of political humor shows, I was off upstairs to wash up for the night and crawl under the silken sheets. Jarvis knew to wake me whenever he decided to show up again, but it wasn't like I actually slept on those nights. Knowing full and well I would be up again at 6 am, I would stare at the stars over the ocean for hours and hope to see that one of them was moving, and quickly towards me.

It wasn't until 3:48 that Jarvis woke me from a half-lidded sleep that I realized I had even fallen asleep in the first place. And I knew what I had to do. Barely dressed in a spaghetti tank and my underwear, I ran down the stairs, hoping for the best and guessing the worst. For some reason, it was always right in the middle. He never was just fine, but never completely on the verge of death.

I found him as I expected to – face down on the black floor in his workshop, groaning in different tones as he tried to pick himself up. With my help, he removed the helmet and blood rolled out. He had a nice gash above his eye and a glassy look about him. Semi-conscious it was.

With a little help from him, I was able to pick him up and put him on the platform necessary to extract him from his gold and red prison. He kept mumbling to himself. It took me a few minutes to realize what he was mumbling – my name. I kept reassuring him I was there, but he seemed cracked. Was it the stress or just the landing that made him seem gone from the world?

Up the stairs we went, and first thing first, I pulled him from his neoprene wrapping to expose what little he was wearing underneath. He only wore a tank top as was custom to him at the present, and some black pajama-type pants I hadn't seen before. Who knows if he had had them for years and just hid them in some crevice of one of his closets? Once outside of his shell he fell right onto me. His heft was something I wasn't expecting to have to heave around.

With the right commands and holds on his torso, I found that I could drag him into the bathroom and plop him into the shower to clean at least some of the blood and sweat from his body. I wanted him to rest, but not without some kind of clean-up. He was banged up and bruised in too many places to count, but nothing I saw looked overly damaged other than his head. Having to manually bathe a man larger than you at 4 in the morning wasn't exactly what I expected to have to do that night, or any night before or after that, but that's what I did. He sat; I cleaned him off as best I could and held him warmly to my body in the process. He seemed to react to my touch and pushed his back into my bare chest, but he still seemed not all there.

20 minutes later, I hustled a half-sleeping full-grown man to his bed and tucked him in before crawling in myself. As customary, I found my niche under his right arm and curled up beneath it with my head on his shoulder only to be enveloped by his whole shuddering body. And… something happened I never would have expected. He started crying.

He said nothing, and I just held him. I was dumbfounded. The man who acted such an ass to me and the rest of the world not so long ago was now naked and crying in my arms.

There was only so much his body could take in one night, and so, within minutes, his sobs turned into labored breathing that slowed and became succinct. He fell asleep in a puddle of his own tears and in my cold, wet skin. With everything having happened so quickly…I wasn't sure how to see this. Why was he crying? Me? Or the mission he had just sent himself on? What was more surprising was that he didn't speak to her other than her own name, even while staring straight at her. Was he damaged irreparably? Would he never be the man I knew again?

I fell asleep in my own questions, and woke again when Jarvis called to me to let me know it was 6 am, and told me the order of schedule for the day as I walked into the bathroom to start my daily routine of shower, hair, makeup and breakfast.

Tony had no problem getting up, peeing with absolutely no shame 3 feet from me, kissing the side of my face to mumble what sounded like a half-meant good morning and going back to bed all within 2 minutes. …A normal daily occurrence in the Stark Mansion. Me with my hair half straightened and already standing in heels and then him nude and braced against the wall in front of the toilet like he couldn't stand up and pee without falling over. Nothing had changed. He didn't seem completely damaged. He didn't even seem all that bruised other than the discoloration on his torso and the top of his right thigh.

So what had happened last night?


	2. Chapter 2 Darkness

AN – thank you for the wonderful reviews. I posted the first chapter at 1:30 in the morning knowing I had to be up for 12 hours of work at 7:30, but I had to give it to the world. The other half of the first chapter has been driving me insane since.  
I also wanted to comment – I wrote a Twilight story in January and never got down to finishing it. I wrote 4 chapters. I just wanted to say, the first chapter to this fic got MORE VIEWS than all 4 chapters of that story did. Thank you so much for reading. =)

I forgot my disclaimer before, but here it is – I don't own Iron Man. Marvel does. And a lot of other things, for that matter.

Chapter Two – Darkness

It could have been me.

I kept to myself most of the time recently. The only real touch to the outside world was Pepper and sometimes Rhodey showed up to screw with me. The man needs a hobby, honestly. He was still hounding me that this relationship was long time coming and it shouldn't have taken this long for us to notice. Whatever. It happened, now we're fine. Stop bothering me about shit I can't fix.

My daily solitude got to me occasionally. Sure, I enjoyed my alone time downstairs with screaming music and electronics all around, but I looked forward to the nights and Pepper returning. Her days weren't always good, and I wasn't always nice, but I still enjoyed the time we had together for a few hours.

And, damn if that woman didn't look good in my vintage band t-shirts.

Especially that Stones one with the holes worn in the right places…

Okay, so even though I'm tied down, I'm still the same man on the inside. And the outside. My needs are no different. I mean, I forgot about them for a while. I had something else occupying my mind other than my ever-needy balls.

After Yinsen's forced realization that I was utterly alone as well as seeing for myself that the men dying across the giant pond were dying from the same guns they were shooting themselves. It wasn't a friendly fire thing, hell no – the man who was supposed to act like the substitute for my father had been double-dealing for years to make sure his pockets never got too low.

Obi's gone, Vanko's dead, Hammer's probably growing somewhere trying to find every and any way to kill my company and my rather attractive CEO with perfectly curved legs and just the right size in skirts…

Yes, my mind always goes IMMEDIATELY to the always pent-up sexual tension. Not that the sex isn't great, because let me tell you, it is fan-_tast-_ic – there just isn't enough of it according to my physical needs. She comes home, we banter, eat dinner, and she goes off to bed. When she goes to bed, I go back downstairs most of the time to finish whatever I had left half-done when Jarvis alerted me that she had left the company building. I mean, she didn't have to come down and be bitchy at me that I was being a bad boyfriend that didn't care. I was trying to be a normal…'sensitive' male that cared about her daily plight in helping me be able to wake up at noon hung over and go back to the man lair and do whatever it was that made her salary however much it was. If you call that normal. Really, it was just to placate her. Somewhere I've always heard the saying if the woman ain't happy, ain't no one happy? Yeah, they weren't kidding, whoever came up with that. I'm sure they sold a lot of crap with that saying on it to women everywhere.

Everything seemed so well at peace. I was home, she worked 6 days a week, she woke me up when she got up at 6 to start her ungodly early morning routine and everyone was happy. We had a system, and there was something about organization that just made her feel better and I could tell. So, there was a set pattern. I sat waiting for her when she came home, we ate dinner, and we talked about whatever we saw fit until she went to bed. What little time we did spend together was reigned in.

I knew I would get some home coming when I had gotten bored of tinkering and started listening to the news in the background as I examined the fluctuations within the company. Money, employees, engineers. Nothing spectacular, but I was bored and nosy. If this company was going to have my name on it, I would know what we were doing. Not that I really cared.

"News from the Middle East is still bleak as more small villages are being bombarded by growing insurgencies…"

I wasn't really all that interested in hearing about more little girls in schools blown up for wanting to have an education, but I was too lazy to turn it off. …even though I could just say it. Maybe some part of me wanted to hear what was going on in my favorite dark sand hole.

"Men are being forced by death of their families to join the insurgencies and leave behind the peaceful lives they once knew. 14 year old boys are walking around carrying stolen Stark arms for the older men using them as packmules…"

Wait. Not only were these men killing to gain an army, but they apparently still had some stores left somewhere of my weapons. That was enough for me, but.

"A man has been seen here holding a newspaper from months ago with a picture of the red and gold suit and yelling in the streets for their salvation. The people here are all calling – where is the Iron Man?"

Just to twist into the wound already started, they were complaining that I had missed my timely entrance. They should have known that I was regularly fashionably late.

It only took 20 minutes to be up in the air and flying along at supersonic speeds to save said little towns in the middle of the desert while the sun looked like it was starting it's way out for the day. It had to be early afternoon…meant it was darkening there in the Middle East. My estimated arrival time was some time around 1 AM. A time when I could blow shit up without being noticed too quickly.

But when I arrived, I found it to be a much different scenario. The men weren't sleeping hidden behind their arms. They were pillaging buildings. The original stop point was farther along by 14 minutes, as I was so flatly told by he who I created, but the gunfire made me stop. As stealthily as I could, I dropped straight down to the ground and watched what was unfolding. Why was I watching and not stopping? Something told me to wait for a moment.

Not far in front of me I saw a boy. Well, I call him a boy. He wasn't more than 25. What struck me so terribly was what he was doing. He was holding a dead pregnant woman, probably younger than him, and sobbing uncontrollably while the men around him threatened him with their automatic rifles in loud Arabic.

This never would have hit me so hard if I didn't know I had a woman to go home to.

He could have been me. I could be that boy screaming for the woman I loved when I came home and found her full of holes. I didn't even know if she would be there when I went back. She could have left, or she could have been hurt, killed, kidnapped, hell if I knew. I was on the other side of the world playing hero when I had someone else I needed to be hero to more right now.

Well, shit, she could have been that boy. I come home in pieces for her to put back together. I know she worries about whether or not she'd be able to put Humpty Dumpty back together again. But that was part of how the relationship went, right? She walked in knowing that she was getting into it not only with the great socialist and 'woman's man' Tony Stark, but also with his more well-liked alter ego Iron Man.

My mind finally kicked. I had to go home. I had to make it back. I had to save these people and reset myself in the world of war before returning as quickly as 'safe' could manage.

Yes, I saved the village and yes, the boy lived to stay with the woman he cried for. In a moment of kindness, I put my hand on his shoulder just for a moment. He turned his head and looked to me for just one moment, and I saw the desperation he felt. I had been there too, once. Hoping for death when it shouldn't come.

I took off in a blaze of white light and demand. I had to make it back to her. Sure, I had a few bumps and bruises. A grenade had gone off in the crook of my right leg on top of my thigh, and that was killing me at that moment, but I had to go on.

The crash landing wasn't something I had planned, per se. I was falling asleep in my weakness and took a nice header into the wall just above the tunnel before stumbling down the tunnel itself and ending by dragging along on my front side. By that time, I didn't care. I was alive. I was home. I could crawl into bed with her like I did at late hours of the night and she still cuddled up for my warmth.

It didn't end that way. I don't remember what all happened. I remember getting the suit taken off and I remember the shower that she personally scrubbed the sweat from me. I would think it's because she cared, but it was probably because I smelled like rotting asshole in that neoprene and who wants to sleep next to that?

I remember Jarvis' light tones to wake her up at her normal 6 am time. Jesus Christ, what time did I get here anyway? I felt like I hadn't slept at all, but man I had to piss. She had just gotten out of the shower not long ago before I just couldn't take it anymore. I shuffled in, as usual, and took my ever-wonderful morning leak. Thank god the tile on the wall above the toilet was cold. It felt fantastic to my forehead as I leaned and groaned. She seemed not to notice, as normal, but I knew better than to think that she wasn't looking at me. I was nude. Had she just not dressed me, or did I just refuse a pair of boxers? Or maybe we had sex while I was blacked out. Weirder shit had happened.

Once done, I flushed away the toxins from my system and gave her my every-morning kiss on the side of her cheek with a dulcet-toned good morning that sounded like I should have more facial hair than I do and drive an 18 wheeler.

Back to bed I wandered as my body started to take notice of the black and blue spots all over. After a successful crash back into the sheets, I turned away from the light from the bathroom and passed right out again. Maybe later that night we'd talk about whatever had happened the day before that she saw fit to remember to tell me.

Let me tell you how much I don't particularly care how this came out. It's much more of a level-headed and sensitive Tony than I EVER set out to give. But, I guess it works.

I must say, this clip makes me think of Pepper completely.  
.com/watch?v=Xu_6hdGZ6gU but in a crazy way. She looks so perfectly calm, but on the inside….


	3. Chapter 3 Subtleties

AN – Wow, the response I've gotten is more than I ever expected. Apparently some of you understand my underlying need for new and exciting lines of thought for these two characters. I applaud you all who stay with me while I flounder around and try to get things to flow from my brain.  
Because someone asked, I'll answer – I will not be posting every night, as you can probably now tell. I just have a job where I stand at a counter for 12 hours a day, and so the creative juices flow. Even after I work all day and I'm horribly tired, I have to get this out before I go insane.

Chapter 3 – Subtleties

I wondered if the life he led was what caused the breakdown in the night. Did he need to be outside living instead of cooped up? It's not like he was under complete supervision and wasn't allowed to leave. He just…didn't.

Except one day he did.

It was eleven thirty, and I didn't have anything lined up until 2. I had been in horribly early for a conference call with the New York plant. When I say horribly early, I had to be sitting at my desk at 7:30. The dulcet tones of the non-existent butler had awoken me at 5:15, which interestingly enough hadn't been long after Tony crawled into bed smelling of expensive scotch and burnt hair. I knew better than to ask and I didn't have the mindset to listen to the answer.

I will comment on the side, however, that when he got up for his morning ritual before I left, I did notice that he had somehow lost a spot in his eyebrow and one side of his goatee had shorter hair than the other. I knew I should ask later. It seemed like it would be a compelling story that he probably would not be interested in retelling.

While digging through countless stacks of accounting sheets, my door swung open. There were heels as well as another shoe sound, but I didn't pay any attention or look up. I thought it was just more people to bring me more papers to sign or look at and approve or who knew what.

"Good Morning Miss Stark Industries, I see you look oh so chipper on this lovely morning in sunny California."

Number one, my conference call hadn't gone well and accounting had a massive problem with the payroll. Number two, it was raining. Hard.

But I was surprised that when I looked up I found Tony standing there in a backwards baseball cap, unnecessary sunglasses, and a jacket over a greasy t-shirt. He looked like any guy off the street. I wouldn't be surprised if some people hadn't noticed him. And he had apparently tried to cover his night's mistakes with what looked like some of my makeup. No surprise there.

"Tony, what are you…"

"Lunch. My treat. Your schedule is open, Nata-lie-sha or whatever her crazy name is can cover - you'll be fine for a few hours, just come with me."

Definitely calling stir crazy. Natalie/Natasha was shifting papers from my out pile and adding more to my in while staring in contempt at such a normal-looking billionaire genius. Other than the suit-type jacket, he could pass off for any Joe Shmoe outside. It was…kind of getting to me.

" ….Okay. I'll go. Where are we going?" I stood from my chair as Natalie walked out in her clip-clomp way. Once that door was closed, he moved like lightening. He was right beside me, holding me and kissing along my neck. It's not that I wasn't enjoying it, but people could come in at any moment and I had a face to keep.

"Tony, could you at least wait until we got into the car?"

"Nope."

After at least 10 minutes of convincing him that I would taste no different standing somewhere other than my posh office, we were in the back of the car with Happy driving along to wherever the boy in men's clothing told him to go. I was just along for the ride.

As it was, Tony couldn't stop touching me. My hand, my leg, my neck – he was being oddly touchy-feely, at least more than normal.

"What are we having for lunch, Mr. Stark?"

"Eh, whatever sounds good. Maybe that Chinese food place that's really nice in Beverly Hills. They have that good duck. Or are you on the forget-to-eat diet? I hear it's very popular right now…"

"Tony. I am not trying to lose weight-"

"But you look like you haven't eaten in days, eat a damn cookie. I don't want to spend all my money buying you a new, smaller wardrobe. I don't have enough closet space in the house for both of our inventories."

He was rambling. Something was off. Or, like I said earlier. Stir-crazy.

It was quiet for a few minutes as we took off towards the middle of town and for whatever food suited his fancy. He kept staring out, but all with his thumb rubbing over the back of my hand. I was grateful, but wanted to know more about what was bothering him really.

"How did you get so patchy?" I decided to take a stab at the burn patches on his goatee and eyebrow I noticed that morning.

"Sparks, nothing special."

"Sparks from what?"

"Grinder. What's with the q and a session? They don't look that bad, Pepper."

"No, they don't. I was just curious. I'm used to the liquor smell, not the smell of burnt hair at 4 in the morning."

"Quite pungent, isn't it." He absent-mindedly scratched on his facial hair to feel the spots left. He was trying to cover it. It wasn't going well. Or he just forgot about how horrible he was at covering certain things about himself.

"I think you need some time off." He said out of nowhere as they sat at a light. He was still staring out the window, possibly at something in particular. The rain was dripping down the window, but was there something hidden in the grey darkness?

"What do you mean, time off? I don't get time off. I have a business to-"

"You're too busy for your own health. I think we need to take a vacation. I need out of the house and you need to eat 6 times a day and get drunk, loosen up, stop being a stingy business type. I've only ever seen you frightened, worried, more worried, cute, and naked. I'm curious as to how you act drunk."

"Tony! I-"

"Oh, we're here." He was quick to dart out of the car into the rain and pull me along with him, pulling me close and trying to keep me under his jacket from the rain. At least he was gentlemanly and helped me along into the building with my heels and the rain.

After an awkward lunch in a back far room, he ran me back to the company with a small kiss and walking me back to my office. He promised to not set any hair on fire while I was gone.

I was able to go home early enough that we also had dinner together – pizza, since we had Chinese for lunch and he was already half nude when I came home. Though I keep some feelings to myself, I still wasn't able to cover my feelings for him while attractively undressed. The naked urinating in the morning was never pleasant, but nights like this I enjoyed my place under his thick, muscular arm and the hum that came from his chest that lulled me to sleep in the night.

"I'm not going to let you go of the vacation idea." He said between swigs of brandy, his bare feet propped up on the coffee table and the late night news mumbling off in the corner.

"Tony…"

"I'm just saying."

"We'll see."

He held on a little tighter with a copious side-fondling before I saw fit to put him in his place and reset myself under his warm arm. Sure, we were together, but I still had occasional limits.

"I'll come to bed with you."

He called after me as I got up to clean up from our impromptu dinner on the couch and started turning off the lights. He hadn't come to bed with me in weeks. I guess it was because of the night that he was gone recently. I still hadn't asked him why he cried, but would he have answered anyway? After basic clean-up and all the dishes put away to clean overnight, we tromped up the stairs together to retire to his bedroom.

I forgot what it felt like to fall asleep an hour later than I planned yet still early enough that when 6 am came around, I wasn't worried that I had too little sleep.

If you understand what I'm saying, that is.

A bit shorter than I wanted it to be, but I'm not all about every second of the moment. Only certain ones have the most meaning.


	4. Chapter 4 TellTale Signs

AN – I've been throwing around places in my head – where should they vacation? I'm not quite sure. As I set this up, I decided this is going on during the winter, so they need somewhere in the southern hemisphere.

Disclaimer – I may need mental help, according to my boyfriend, but I still don't own these characters.

Chapter 3 – Tell-tale signs

Why was the bed always so warm in the mornings? Okay, really, why was he always so damn comfortable? The soft blue light was annoying in the darker points of night sometimes, but with the rain we were still having day and night coupled with his warm body made it hard to listen to Jarvis at 6 am every morning.

This morning in particular was hard – I couldn't breathe through my nose.

And breathing through my mouth made my throat ache.

Oh, hell no. I'm not sick.

I coughed as I tried to inhale deeply and turn over. I could get through this. I could at least go in, do some work, maybe leave a little early. It was probably just something the rain kicked up that I was having some allergies to.

In early November.

After my British snooze reminded me of the time and I muted him, it seemed someone else woke up a little too with a few grunts and shifting of his weight from his back to his side. He seemed to like the rainy sleep weather just like I did.

It wasn't a few seconds later that I realized that while I was trying to take in air through my nose, I was making a squeaking noise. After that came how much my head was killing me. And then how much I absolutely did not want to get up.

"Did you bring a flute to bed, or do you need a Kleenex."

Even at 6 am I could count on that trademark personality of his.

There was no sense hiding it. I had to pee; I could at least get up and go to the bathroom. I would assess the possibility of an office sitting after seeing how well I did upright.

Quickly I found that my body wasn't interested in upright. One foot after the other, and I fell soundly back down to my knees and hands on the ground. The world was spinning. That's all I needed – a good case of vertigo.

While struggling to right myself, I felt hands on my waist helping me to stand. Once I did, everything spun again, and I found myself against his chest with my face buried in his neck. Oh god my head hurt. My whole face was sore and pounding. Sinus pressure to go with a running nose and a sore throat. Sounds just like allergies to me.

"Welcome to the world, baby giraffe. Is everything so much brighter than the womb?"

"Shut up, Tony."

"You don't look so good. Not that anyone looks good at 6 am."

"I'm fine."

"You can't stand up straight."

"I'm _fine_."

"Then why can't you get off of me?"

I realized – I couldn't. I was clinging to him to not fall over. The metal glowing in his chest was digging into my breast painfully, but I couldn't get up. I kept my hold, but he turned around to put me back on the bed. Back under the covers I went and he wandered off into the bathroom.

"Jarvis, call that Natalie/Natasha chick and tell her Pepper's not coming in today."

"Tony, you can't make those decisions for me!" cough, hack, sputter.

"You have a head cold. You're staying in bed." He was been cutely protective. Sure, I was pissed at the time, but looking back later he was doing his best to be sensitive. My mind was running through everything I had to do for the day. I only had two appointments and a few things I knew of that I had to sort out – nothing spectacular, but the idea of putting it off when it wasn't necessary was driving me insane.

"Do I at least get my laptop, Mr. Stark." I knew that calling him so formally, especially in a non-formal setting really hit a nerve for him. As two semi-rational people in a relationship, as boyfriend and girlfriend, he couldn't stand it when I talked to him so coldly. I always got some kind of reaction, and I craved it occasionally. Especially when he was being so very demanding, like he had been as my boss for years.

"Only if you're a good girl, Virginia." He sneered at me and I couldn't even see him, but I knew it was there. We lived to bother each other. How else did we survive each other for a decade?

After the sounds that told me he did his morning routine, he came back out with two green pills and a bottle of water. I wanted to ask where it came from, but I knew better than to ask.

I stared at the pills in my hand for a moment, then back to him from my low vantage point.

"Don't look at me like I'm trying to give you cyanide, they're Tylenol, just take them please. So I can go back to bed."

I sat up as best as I could and swallowed the two pills down. They were sugar coated and weren't bad at all. What were they, Tylenol sinus? I hoped so before crawling back down into the sheets. The man of the house called for the lights to be turned off before returning to his side of the bed and the small amount of warmth left under the blankets. A bolt of lightning hit out somewhere over the coast, illuminating the windows before us and the bed.

"What time did you come to bed, Tony."

He grumbled. That usually meant it was sometime he wasn't interested in telling me, or he was like he said, trying to go back to sleep. That was the normal plan, after all.

I gave up trying to start any decent conversation, and instead found myself scooting to him in the bed to sap off his warmth. My sniffling was loud over the pinging of the raindrops on the roof and his contented breathing. Ten to one I was keeping him awake because I couldn't breathe.

That was probably why he had turned away from me. I cared little and found my comfort against his shoulder and running my arm around him. He sniffed himself and shifted a little into me, but made no stirring afterward. A few minutes later, I joined him in silent slumber, other than my occasional nose flute.

When I woke up hours later, he was gone. I was alone in the bed, and the rain had subsided for now, but it was still horribly gloomy out.

"Jarvis, what time is it?"

"11:23 am, Miss Potts."

"Where's Tony?"

"He is currently in the workshop."

My head wasn't pounding, but I could tell my face was still sore. Were those pills sedatives too? Had he drugged me to make me stay? How many phone calls had I missed?

With some considerable work, I crawled my way to the bathroom to finally pee for the first time that morning, and crawl up onto the bench in the shower to clean myself off. Maybe the steam would help break up some things in my nose and sinuses.

"Nice to see you're alive."

He had stuck his head into the shower, staring at her underneath the warm water with an odd sort of grin on his face.

"You can not tell me that you don't need a vacation."

"What does vacation have anything to do with me being ill?"

"You've been half sick for about a week and haven't even noticed it, have you."

No. No I hadn't. I hadn't noticed I didn't feel well all week until he said something. I had kept myself so busy that I completely forgot that I had been waking up with a sore throat each morning only to cover it up with a glass of orange juice on my way out of the house.

I hadn't had a clear nose in probably 10 days, but I didn't have time to think about it other than occasionally having to wipe snot from my face.

It just all hit me all at once when I was most stressed. The day before had been rather stressful and over 12 hours long. My body couldn't fight it off anymore.

He noticed the click in my eyes I guess.

"No, you hadn't noticed. You had too much to do, right? We're going on vacation. Next week. After you get over this. Somewhere that isn't raining 4 days straight."

He retreated back from the shower door and left me to my thoughts alone.

I really wasn't taking care of myself was I? I thought he was just complaining to me like I had always complained to him. You don't sleep enough, you don't eat enough. I wasn't sleeping enough and I wasn't eating enough.

I guess I really did need a break.

After my nice warm shower, back to bed I went. I found my blackberry and more pills waiting for me on my pillow with a glass of juice and a peanut butter sandwich on the nightstand. After a few minutes of reading e-mails and texting Natalie back and forth with half a sandwich in my mouth, a thought came to me.

"Jarvis, what time did Tony come up to bed this morning?"

"4:36am, ma'am."

I popped my pills and laid down more into the sheets.

He was coming to bed later and later since that night that he came back and cried. What was he doing downstairs anyway?

AN – Sorry, I should have put this up earlier – It's been semi-done for days.  
It's a bit short for me, but I knew I couldn't go on week-long vacation without giving you guys something to stir trouble in your heads. =) Hopefully I'll be able to post more while I'm out there, but I will definitely be writing no matter what.

Reviews are always appreciated. I need to know how my readers feel!


	5. Chapter 5 Come Sail Away

AN – Typing in the airport, wooo! Since so many of you have begged and begged for more, I'm willing to give you more and more. It would be easier, though, if I had more reliable internet in this vacation home…

Chapter 5  
Come Sail Away

"Brazil, or Australia."

Looking at the map of the world and possible places to go in the middle of winter, only the southern hemisphere would work. She needed different air, and different people to be around.

As much as I would have liked to, the French Riviera was a bit cold this time of year. I was looking to get her into bikinis and tiny sundresses, not parkas and furs.

We could just rent out an island in Southeast Asia for a week or two. I thought about that. There were too many possibilities. And none of them were standing out.

Even when they were shown in 3D holograms in my basement mancave.

We weren't spending enough time together. Every waking moment I could stand I was downstairs, fortifying the house from any kind of electrical, viral or explosive attack. She wasn't home all day. While she was out, I was busy installing metal plating in the walls. If she was going to be safe anywhere, it would at least be in our home.

She hadn't even seemed to notice the blast tank I had built in the corner. Or that she was ignoring it because she wasn't interested in my talk about scientific experimentation. She always seemed sooooo happy when I talked about anything tech dealing with the suit. If talking about something I cared about was going to make her not want to be around me, I would stop. So I did.

I kept the construction work to the day time, and the computations to the night. Occasionally I had to set off blasts to test the virility of the plates, but I built the blast tanks to be not only study but also pretty sound proof. I made sure to do those late into the night when I knew she would be completely passed out even if she did feel or hear anything.

"Jarvis, talk to me about Fiji."

That was one place I was thinking heavily about. Tropical, warm, and all over naked place.

As Jarvis told me demographics and how many people per kilometer lived there, I noticed there were a lot of tiny ass islands that were semi unaccounted for. We as a world knew they were there, but didn't see fit to name them apparently.

"Alright, I'm good with the numbers talk. What about these little ones to the south east." I pointed to a lone one out farther than the rest in the lowest point to the southeast.

"What about this one."

"That is one of the larger small islands, sir."

"Find me an uninhabited one for rent. Preferably with a nice sized cabin, requirements – a TV with satellite cable and electricity."

"Is that all for requirements, sir?"

"Yes. I don't want work to get in the way. …Yeah. Do it."

"Yes, sir."

Well, we'd see what he came up with. It's Fiji, there had to be an island out there somewhere for people to rent out. It's not like both of us didn't need it. The one fear would be some kind of crisis I couldn't leave alone. As much as I hated thinking about it, I would have to bring the suit with me. This week should be our week, but my time isn't my time anymore. Not now – now that I'm a hero to the world.

"Jarvis, time."

"4:37pm, sir."

"Is she awake?"

"No, sir. Miss Potts has been in REM sleep for almost 23 minutes."

Thank god she hadn't had the energy to put up more of a fight than she did. She had looked terrible for days, but her mind convinced her she didn't need to think about it. She had bigger and better things to do in her mind.

As I rolled around like a 12 year old in my fantastically comfortable and expensive rolling chair, I tried to prioritize my plans for the day. Start diagnostics on the suit-case (what a horrible joke that name was) post slight changes to the hardware and some of the joint connectors, check the small spark problem I was having with Dummy (probably from me throwing something at him) and plan this vacation. Fairly basic. Nothing special to be done. Sure, I was doing something…I was terrible at. Planning wasn't my job, it was Pepper's.

Why else did I pay her 6 figures of salary to be my assistant?

She made me go to meetings, she planned our itineraries when I traveled – fuck, she even packed my bags and picked my clothes for the day. And it took me 10+ years to realize that I couldn't spend a day without her and keep my head on.

How stupid am I?

Supposedly that was the greatest downfall of the genius – zero social ability. Well, I showed that that wasn't a problem. I lost count of how many women knew me…intimately years and years ago.

Pepper and Rhodey would say that that has nothing to do with social ability and has more to do with money and power lays. There's nothing like name dropping, even if it means name dropping the billionaires you've slept with as a slutty model.

Was I really a name to drop for some whore at a casting party?

"Jarvis. Uh…how..god, how do I plan a vacation."

"You need to plan for the most necessary things. For example, for your Fiji vacation, you will need transportation to your secluded island."

"Oh. Huh. Didn't think about that."

"And transportation to the dock from the airport."

"Yeah, yeah. Ways to get to other places."

"You will also need to check with the airport about arrival. Will the jet be staying in Fiji while you are there? You will have to coordinate-"

"I got it, I got it. Lots of…planning, lots of calling people…" I was already rubbing my forehead and I hadn't even done anything about it yet. Hell, I didn't even have a place.

"Does Pepper normally do all of this shit?"

"And more, sir."

"I should have paid her better. Jarvis, can you do all of the contacts and planning?"

"I can do all of that electronically, yes sir."

"Good. Do that. Make a plan. 6 days, next week, add a day for travel each way. Technically 8. Get us a boat, we'll take a taxi to the dock, a house, island, everything."

"Yes sir. Would you like for me to put all of the set paperwork for the plans in your inbox?"

"Sure, why the hell not."

I had already started disassembling something in my annoyance and frustration. I wanted to do all of this right – do something that I knew Pepper knew I couldn't do alone, or really had no ability to do myself. It wasn't that I couldn't do it, it's that I wouldn't. That's why I paid people. But I didn't want anyone knowing about it.

"Sir, Miss Potts is awake."

With those simple words, I was quickly out of the workshop and bounding up the stairs to see her. I wanted so so badly to tell her about everything I had planned. She knew we were going to take a vacation, but I hadn't looked at her and said 'We're taking a vacation to Fiji next week. Block out your week.'

She was barely awake, still half there when I sat down on my enormous California king size mattress and stared at her as she fluttered awake with her face away from me. Her gentle stirring told me she wasn't completely gone.

She turned over and saw me out of one bleary eye. Her face still looked a little swollen and her nose still made squeaking noises, but that didn't mean she wasn't beautiful to me.

"Should I keep that registration form for the nose orchestra or are we planning a full-term commitment?"

She didn't say anything, but instead grumbled and turned back around with a sharp, angry move. Did no one around here get my humor? What was this all about?

"Oh come on, it was funny." I said quietly as I reached for her body and dragged her over to me with the blankets. She was nude underneath, and from the dampness of her skin seemed to be sweating some. She probably had a fever.

"No, it wasn't." She sounded like she couldn't breathe out of her nose. She finally did turn back over and pulled herself up to lay her head over my sweatpant-covered leg. She felt hot even through the thick fabric.

"If you weren't sick you would think it was funny." Nonchalantly I touched the back of my hand to her face, feeling her warmth and trying to gauge it. Not that I knew what to do for a fever in the first place. It was so rare that I cared any about how my health was that I didn't know how to care for another sick person.

For some reason, that made my mind jump to kids. How could I take care of kids if I couldn't even take care of my girlfriend?

"I don't think I'm going to work tomorrow either." She grumbled out.

"Why not just not go for the rest of the week. You could do some work here and I could force feed you cookies, it'll be great."

"Tony, I'm not that skinny."

Okay, so I enjoyed making fun of how thin she looked recently. It was for her own good! I didn't want her to waste away because of her job.

"We're going on that vacation next week."

"…alright." She mumbled and turned over in my lap, her head now tucked in the joint of my thigh and hip.

I brushed a few stray hairs from her cheek and ear and stared at how pale she seemed compared to the brown-red dots on her face.

"Have you ordered dinner?"

"What do you want."

"Soup. Lots. Of soup."

"I think I can handle that. Jarvis. Call that deli downtown. Get them to deliver one bowl of each of their soups. And quickly. Throw extra money at them, whatever. I want it here in less than 20 minutes."

"Yes, sir."

I already had him doing so much – calling a deli wouldn't be that hard.

"You know, you could have called them yourself."

"Yeah, but I don't want to."

"How are you living without me here anymore to clean up after you?"

"You're still here. I'm just not paying you to clean up after me."

"Good point, Mr. Stark."

"Indeed, Miss Potts."

AN – I can't wait to get down into vacation for them! I'm totally stoked for the new chapter though – I have suuuuch great ideas =) I'll get right on that… but I'm not sure when I'll be able to get it up. I'm stealing internet right now as it is _


	6. Chapter 6 Cruising Together Pt1

NOTICE – for full effect, or the mind set in which I wrote this, listen to this song

Gwyneth Paltrow & Huey Lewis – Cruising Together

I suggest finding it on YouTube – that's the only place I found it other than my mother's iPod. It's from a not well known movie she did called Duets. My mother is a big fan.

That song gave me the idea for this scene, this whole vacation – how everything goes. While stuck on a plane for 3 hours, I had this on repeat to try to set this scene out. I wanted so SO terribly to write it at the time, but I get so sick in planes…

For another song I listened to to get the feel of the whole scenario I wanted, I also listened to Incubus – Echo.

I took a long time to write this because I wanted so soo badly to make sure I got it RIGHT – as well as a little longer than I normally give. =)

Chapter 6  
Cruising Together  
Part 1~!

Everything came together without hitch. Other than the more local people that Jarvis had contacted had freaked out a little that a computer voice was talking to them, but that was resolved quickly.

Pepper got over her cold. It only took 48 hours for her to be fine enough to berate me, so I knew she was ready to go back into the office.

The Friday week after she had been sick in my bed – I was up before she was. The jet was going to take off at 9 and I planned on a nice morning before hand. A small cruise down the PCH, some breakfast, and then the 15 hour jet ride.

At 6, I was in the shower. By 6:15, I was doing some trimming I knew I needed in certain places, including my goatee. I had every intention of doing this right.

I woke her up at 7. She needed a little more sleep than she had been getting – alright, I know, it's not like I sleep 8 hours a night – and she seemed a little…wired when I did get her up.

I was having a weird dream. Fax machines were chewing on my ankles and my blackberry turned into an annoyingly crying bird…

Only to find myself awakened by creepily happy billionaire hanging over me.

Wearing sunglasses and clam diggers in November.

"Tony, what, what time is-"

Oh, the vacation, right.

Wait, WHAT.

I shot up right out of bed in moments and scrambled for my clothing. There were too many things running through my mind – what time was it, where's my luggage, do I need to call the office –

And there Tony was, shirtless in sunglasses and clam diggers staring at me and laughing.

Some of it I'm sure was because I was having a literal naked fit in front of him.

"Whooaa girl. Do I need to give you a sugar cube to calm you down? Your bag is already packed and everything is fine. Shower, put on clothes. I mean, unless you want to be an exhibitionist, and I have no problem with that. Sounds fun, really. Maybe we should join a nudist colony-"

"Tony!" He enjoyed his stream of consciousness too much.

"What?"

"…why are you up so early?"

He seemed thoughtful for a moment – something I wasn't used to seeing. He wasn't sure how to answer. But he seemed so happy in that moment.

"Because I have plans."

He was off and out of the room quickly, waving back to me still nude in his bed.

"I'll be downstairs at the car." He called back.

Wow, he was serious.

Oh my god, Tony Stark has plans that he made himself. I didn't make them. Someone else didn't make them for him.

Is he broken? What drug is he on? Speed?

No, ten to one Jarvis did all of the planning. There was no way this would have worked if he had done the travel booking.

I didn't take long – I had a great deterrent to that. Do you know how weird it is to be someone's assistant and haranguing them for YEARS about being late to things, then having the same person you bothered bother you about taking too long?

The entire time I showered, he kept poking in and telling me how long I was taking through Jarvis' intercom system. What did he have to say to me? He would take 40 minute showers sometimes (though, now that we're 'together' I know why) when he knew we had meetings to attend within the hour. I wanted nothing more than to throw something at him, but that wouldn't've been the best way to start off this weeklong vacation.

God, the idea of a weeklong vacation felt like a fleeting dream. I could still think of mounds of paperwork sitting on my desk to be reviewed or signed or whatever they decided they needed. I was half surprised they didn't ask me for blood signatures sometimes.

He left me a dress on the bed and some sandals – both of which made me wonder what season he thought it was. I still wasn't sure where we were going. He refused to tell me, but all indications pointed to somewhere warm. And the fact that it was Friday, and we weren't going to be returning until the next Monday gave me more clues – it wasn't exactly close. Or it could be that he just wanted to as far away for as long as possible.

But where was it anyway?

I begrudgingly put on the clothes he had left for me and wandered down into the shop, where he was standing there by his Audi in a similarly warm-weather outfit still. The normal weather for November wasn't too too cold – but for some reason, we were having a hot spell. Maybe that was why we had warm weather clothing. It only helped that I noticed he already had the top down.

Wait, what about our luggage?

"Tony, we can't take luggage in the Audi unless you want to stuff me in the glove box."

"We could, with how skinny you've got. It's in the plane, don't worry. You're supposed to be relaxing, remember?"

He hopped into the driver's seat through the open top and opened the side door for me, staring at me through his giant expensive sunglasses with that creepily-good grin. For some reason, that look always hit me in just the right spot inside.

I climbed into the slightly too cushiony leather seat and within seconds the engine was roaring behind our heads and he was pulling out of the drive and sped off at breakneck speed down the PCH.

With the top down and the sun warm on my hair, it still was a little cold for me. He said he covered everything – and he honest to god had. Not only was there my purse underneath my feet, but also a blanket I was fond of from the couch. It was so soft and very warm. It was perfect for what I needed it for in that moment.

He really did plan this out, didn't he?

To show my gratitude in a small moment, since I couldn't just scream it at him over the whip of the wind over the car, I reached out to lay my hand on top of his on the shifter between us both.

Instead of leaving my hand on top of his, he moved his hand out from underneath to put his hand on top of my own – and push my hand to shift the car into 5th gear. It bucked like it stopped for a moment in time, but then shot off into oblivion to go even faster than it had been. I lurched myself in fear, but his hand stayed tight to mine. His thumb grazed the back of my palm with his calloused thumb pad as we raced along the coast.

A few minutes later, he was pulling off to the side – something I hadn't been expecting. There was a little café place on a more popular area of the beach. He pulled up right in front of the small building and hopped out of the car in quick succession, leaving me in the running street racer.

He was back in 90 seconds with two coffee cups and a small brown bag before we shot off down the coastline again, hand on hand in the quiet comfort of touching one another.

He pulled off again not far from where we had before and parked in a deserted parking lot. There was a wonderful view of the crashing waves as the tide came up over the beach and grew from the low marks it had made in the sand.

He cut the engine and was out in seconds, taking one of the coffee cups and the brown bag with him. Where the hell was he going? I knew better than to ask, and instead just got out with my own coffee and my blanket and started following him.

He didn't stop until we climbed some steps up onto a ledge that had just enough space for us to sit on and a nice wall of rock to lean against. We were 20 feet or so in the air staring at the water come up farther and change color when it got thinner over the sand. Just a quiet spot for the two of us.

We sat in silence for a few minutes before he broke the monotony.

-x-x-x-

"I worry about you."

That café could make some Columbian coffee with too little water and too many beans. The stuff was fantastic to clear a weekend bender, or give me morning confidence to actually talk to a woman, my woman, about my…feelings.

"You, Tony Stark, are not allowed to talk about worrying."

"I am allowed to worry about you just as much as any other person! What, because I put my life in danger it means I can't worry about someone else?" I wasn't exactly doing well in the calm portion of the exam, though.

"No, I was just making a joke. Calm down. You can worry about whoever and whatever – but don't think for an instant that you didn't have it coming to you. I've spend the past decade wondering if you'd wake up on Monday morning."

"Yeah…I know." I mumbled, swishing my coffee around in the biodegradable cup.

"You only made it worse when, after I was told you were probably dead out in a desert, you came home and made a suit that just screamed 'get a bigger life insurance policy'."

"I already have a huge one. Look, this isn't about me – you're starving yourself, and it's my fault. I gave you the damn job because you're better at it than I ever could have been, and now you're getting sick and not sleeping-"

"Part of that is you trying to set the house on fire-"

"That's not the point, Pepper. I want you to be healthy. I don't want to try to wake you up one morning and you won't wake up."

"That's not me you need to worry about for that – I worry about that every morning after you've been out saving the world. Do you not realize how easy it would be for you to have a head injury and no one know it until you won't wake up?"

"Deal. You take care of yourself, I'll try to stay in one piece."

"Deal. Now what's in the bag."

"Danishes." I took a sip of my cooling coffee – god why isn't this shit illegal? It tasted like crack and made me feel like it was – and turned to look at her in the morning light. The sun had been up for a few hours, but from behind, the light made her hair dance on the wind and look like strands of red grain flowing on the side of some Midwest highway. I had to reach out and touch it and feel the soft strands between my worked fingers.

"We should go soon." I said as more of a thought out loud than anything. I didn't want to leave that moment with her, but there was a jet to catch and a beach house waiting for us.

We wandered back down to the car and climbed back in. The airstrip wasn't much farther, and with my need for speed, I was there in all of 6 minutes. The stairs were down and Happy was waiting at the bottom of them to take the car and put it in the hangar for the week.

I shooed her on up as I covered all bases here for the time being. I made sure Happy had packed the suit-case and our bags had been loaded as well as some food for the long flight. Once all checks were made, I bounded my way up into the posh plane and the door shut and pressurized behind me.

There's only so much to do in 15 hours on a plane. Most of what Pepper did was work-related and on her laptop. I was more interested in watching television with my head in her lap and covered in her blanket. Those danishes did come in handy later for quick snacking as I caught up on the recent musings of my fangirls online. Unbeknownst to them, I enjoyed seeing whatever they were giggling about – be it the most recent picture of myself in the tabloids or my latest Iron Man endeavor. Pepper had long since stopped bothering me about my need to stroke my ego – even if I was tied down, I was curious to see how my adoring female public saw me.

As it was, leaving at 9 in the morning meant that we would arrive at 2 am to us – but it was going to be 7 at night on Saturday to them. That would take some time to fix, but we could with the amount of time we were going to be other there.

I had asked Happy for one thing – something for dinner. I had no real intention of cooking in that tiny ass kitchen ever again (damn omelets). If I was going to cook for Pepper, it would have to be where I was comfortable and able to get some technological help.

Instead, I asked Happy to get some premade noodles, sauce and salad that I could throw together for an impromptu dinner. It would at least get the message that I was trying a little better – but at least this time I wasn't trying to tell her I was dying.

Within 10 minutes, I had dinner for us set on the table and Pepper was indeed gracious that I had been so nice to 'cook' a meal. I knew I couldn't trick her into thinking I actually cooked a meal within 10 minutes, but she was nice enough not to call the bluff.

That was around 8 our time. We stayed up to watch a few movies (one of each of our choice – Top Gun for me, some old romantic comedy called Only You for Pepper) before we both crawled into the bedroom in the back of the jet. It would only be a small nap before we would have to crawl right back out into the light of the world.

As we skimped down to underwear and crawled under the sheets with only my internal blue nightlight, small soft hands found my chest and softly dragged nails down along my skin.

"Where are you taking me, Mister Stark."

"Oh, I'm just going to hold you prisoner in the middle of nowhere, Miss Potts."

Her face was so close to mine, her breath was my own. For years I wanted this for different reasons. For years I acknowledged her only as the person who kept my life together and drove me insane even though I paid her to. I mean, I did enjoy staring at her chest moving up and down under her blouse every day when she fixed my tie, wondering what skin was hiding underneath and how sensitive she would be to touch – but not for any emotional commitment. She's attractive. I charm and have sex with attractive women, I told myself.

But it meant so much more, and it wasn't until I was locked in a cave with no real connection to the outside world that I realized how much she meant to my world. I felt empty without her prodding.

"I thought you were the super hero, not the villain. Villains take damsels and make them their prisoner in remote locations so the super hero has to find them, not the other way around."

"Sometimes super heroes have to take the damsels into hiding so the villains don't find them first." I reached out in the soft light to touch her face and to run my calloused fingertips over her skin. We were supposed to be 'napping', but this was going somewhere completely different.

We lay in silence, staring at each other but not seeing much more than little shadows in the blue for some time.

She broke the silence first.

"Tony…do you remember crying after your last mission? Do you remember anything of that night?"

I had cried? I didn't remember that at all. If she could have seen me, my face would have been plastered with questions.

"I remember landing…and you naked and cleaning me in the shower, which was incredibly sexy, not that I could have told you then. I've been meaning to though – could you do that every time?"

She seemed to not even be phased by my nod to her beautiful feminine form, which meant that she absolutely had a purpose in this, and wasn't going to stop until she got some kind of answer.

"After that. I set you in bed with me and…you cried, Tony. What happened to make you cry without even knowing it?"

Do I tell her? I didn't want to think about it. Those images of the young man, the slowly cooling body of who I guess was his pregnant wife – she had dredged them all back up to the forefront of my mind. But I couldn't cry now. I wouldn't do that to her again.

I decided it wouldn't be best to hold everything in.

"I saw a kid, probably 22, 23, holding his dead pregnant wife and some group trying to coerce him into joining them. No big deal. Just stayed with me." Sure, I told her, but I had to shrug it off. No big deal. It happened a few weeks ago. Nothing I could do now.

She didn't know what to say to that. She found the best way to reassure me was to slide in closer and lay her head just underneath mine, her scent wafting up from her hair. I missed the smell of her shampoo during the day – sometimes I went to bed early just to smell it as I felt her slowly slide away into her tired dreamland.

She must have known somehow that it was more than that. That I had seen myself in that kid and that had been why I clung to her so and sobbed. I would never have done that otherwise. I never wanted to show that level of dependence on anyone if I could keep from it. Iron Man had to be independent and powerful of his own right – not crying to his girlfriend once he was out of the suit.

In some time, she fell asleep in my arms as I stared into the blackness. My body was tired from just overall wear and tear of my life, but I didn't see sleep as a viable option. Soon enough, we would land and have to hobble over into a hotel for the night.

The pilot called over the intercom to 'wake' us, and I crawled out of bed with Pepper in sleepy tow. We put on clothes and dragged ourselves into the warm rays of the sun. She was too sleepy to even acknowledge where we had landed. She only climbed into the car waiting and crawled her way into my lap to fall asleep against my neck.

It didn't take but 10 minutes to the hotel on the beach, and I had no problems picking the fragile woman up in my arms and carrying her to our suite. At no point in time in all of this did she awaken. After I tucked her into bed, I felt loneliness wash over me for the brief moment. I was alone in that she wasn't conscious, but I knew I truly wasn't. I just didn't want to sleep just yet.

Instead, I sat on the very nice balcony and stared out over the ocean at the surf breaking in the orange glow of sunset. Could I live my life without her sitting in the chair beside me, bothering me in some way? No. I couldn't. And I knew she was the same way, but better at hiding it.

Once the sun was down enough that the world below was getting pretty dark, I headed back inside the darkened room and stripped down again. We did have to get up early in the morning to catch our ride.

As I crawled into bed with the spread out body of the woman I called my own, I hoped that this week would do something for her – and somehow cement that I was going to be a part of her life in a very different way until I didn't wake up someday.

In case you're wondering, that was really rough to write and keep the same mindset. Even with good music, other ideas flare up one by one.  
Part 2, I can only hope, won't be so hard to write!


	7. Chapter 7

AN – I am so, sooo sorry. I just needed to get things together. I really want to write this, I have the visuals in my head and have for a loooong time, but I just haven't been happy with how I would write it. I'm very uncomfortable with sex scenes as much as I enjoy reading a well written one, but this needs something more in the line of romance than I feel I can give well. I'll try, though.  
Working with time zone clocks is not fun.

Pepper was up and awake by 7am on the clock in the room. I was still semi-comatose and not really interested in getting up off of the bed. Sure, my bed in my home was better, but for some reason I reaaallly liked this one.

She wasn't very interested in laying around in bed for some god awful reason, so she got up out of the bed and went somewhere. All I knew is that it was somewhere that wasn't next to me nude (not that it was before, at least the nude part).

Next thing I know the curtains are ripped open and we have a world class view of the sun over the ocean, and I am blinded through my eyelids.

"Where are we, Tony."

"Ow! …could you have at least warned me? My eyelids are melted to my damn corneas."

"Tony. Where are we."

By this time I had opened my eyes, but I at least shielded them. The reflection of the sunlight off the waves was burning my eyes, but they were adjusting at least.

"I don't want to spoil the-"

"Tell me."

"Fiji, Jesus Christ Pepper." I grumbled, trying to find it in me to get up. I mean, I was enjoying part of my view. The one thing between me at the need for lasik surgery later was Pepper in nothing but her laced bra and underwear.

I was okay with that.

I couldn't see in the blinding light, but before I knew it, Pepper had closed one of the curtains so I was no longer hindered by my loss of sight, and I felt a dent in the bed moving up towards me before a lithe body was laying right on top of me with lips touching lips.

I have absolutely no problem with breakfast in bed, if you know what I mean.

"There's no way you did all of this by yourself," she whispered to me in a dreamy tone, right in my ear…then I realized what she said.

"You think I can't even plan a vacation by myself?"

"I know you. I know you can't."

"Who do you think helped me then?"

"I don't even know. That's why I'm bothering you. It's been nagging me in the back of my mind for days."

There's no way I'm willing to tell her the only human to have anything to do with the vacation was me. She probably wouldn't believe me anyway. So, I just shut her up with another heart-pounding kiss. I'd crawl on top of her, but with the blanket it's a bit of a predicament…

"So what's the plan for day, Mr. Stark?" She says quietly as she traces the metal circle of my chest through the blanket. At least she didn't fear the technology stuck in me anymore. She understood it's purpose – and took solace in the light it shone at night. It reminded her I was alive, she told me.

"Well, we have a boat to catch. We aren't going to be staying in this hotel for the next week, Miss Potts."

"Oh? So, if I may ask, where are we going to stay?"

"That is for you to find out." I reached down to kiss her head, taking in the warm, comforting scent of her hair and shampoo before moving out from underneath her torso. There were things to do – including gather up all the luggage and getting out to that marina to find my boat-

Not that she knew that.

She must have gotten the hint and got up herself. We hadn't unpacked at all, but I did feel a need to take a quick shower to get the night's sweat off of me and change to my swim trunks. When I came out in my red and gold accented swim trunks, I found Pepper digging through her bags without a top.

…Wait, was this an invitation? Was my very organized and well planned girlfriend trying to entice me, or-

"Tony, did you see me pack my swimsuit top?"

Well, doesn't mean I can't swoop in…

"Hey, if you're not going to help-" Her skin felt like butter under my calloused and large hand. I was more interested in running my fingers along her shoulder, neck and chest than letting her find her top. A man has priorities. The boat can wait for a little while, can't it?

"Oh, here it is."

Awh, fuck.

And I was hoping for some fun to help her ease the time between places…

She shrugged me off so she could tie up her white with gold trim bikini top. Hey, at least we will match in some way. Most couples that do that shit look stupid and giggly like 12 year olds even when they're 50 and wearing matching Christmas sweaters the little wife knitted herself – but this is a different connection that doesn't involve cheesy jokes about being 'twinsies'. It's sophisticated.

Why am I thinking about matching? Good lord, am I going gay? I still had a lot of skin to stare at…her strong shoulders, back, her smooth stomach and those thighs…

I was lost long enough for her to stand up and walk off without me noticing much. I was hiding off in my mind's eye full of flesh and shuddering sheets. She seemed to notice that I was lost somewhere, and decided to bring me back to the world with a gentle touch to my stomach and side as she walked past to collect things. The simplest touch was a rippling effect along my torso and down under the nylon fabric. Spending a week with her on our own island was going to cause me to need my own vacation. I was going to be too tired to enjoy myself otherwise if this continued.

I found a black t-shirt from the top of the luggage and threw it on unceremoniously. A pair of sandals and I was ready to go out in the world. Since we didn't crack into the luggage too hard, it was going to be quick work getting out of here.

As quick as you can get with 6 bags of luggage. Hey, it wasn't me – it was her. I barely packed 3 swimsuits and some shoes. She didn't know where we were going. I'd be surprised if she didn't have a evening gown in there somewhere.

After her finding and repacking all of our things and a young boy came with a cart, we were out of the room and into the paradise sun.

Pepper was giddy like a schoolgirl. She didn't even know where were going. She didn't realize that as we walked out of the back of the hotel, we were walking towards a marina.

"It's beautiful here."

I couldn't keep the goofy smile off my face under my sunglasses as she couldn't keep her mouth shut or herself off of me. She was leaning on my shoulder as we walked hand in hand down the dock, passing boat after boat as the water lapped up against the wood.

She leaned over to kiss my cheek as we kept walking, and I knew she was happy. No work, no Iron Man, just us two. Us two being a couple only to us and not the rest of the world. Towards the end of the marina was a large speedboat – red, might I add – and I turned to push the button for the crank to lower it down.

"Tony…why were getting on a speedboat?"

"Why else?"

The boy loaded the luggage in the back area behind the driver's seat and I helped him secure them to the floor. I generously tipped the boy before helping Pepper step onto the rocking surface below.

"Seriously, Tony."

"I rented a place for us, but it's about 20 minutes out by boat. It's too small to get a plane on to." She wandered over to a seat in front of the glass partition that was the helm and sat down as I turned the key and backed us out of the dock.

It was no different than driving the boat I barely used at home. This one wasn't as fast and didn't handle as well, but it did the job. We were out and cruising towards our destination at top speed within minutes. Jumping waves felt fantastic, but the view was better. Pepper laid up on the front seats, her bottom half covered in a see-through wrap that matched her swimsuit, and her hair flowing in the wind behind her. I wished I could be sitting there with her. But who was going to drive this thing then?

She did come back to sit in the seat I was supposed to sit in, literal inches from my ass, and ran her hands up under my shirt to rub my back, then around the front, running those perfectly painted fingernails along my swimsuit line. How did she expect me to drive this thing with her distracting me like that?

"Do you want to get to the house or not?" I yelled out over the engine, tilting my head down to look at her under my sunglasses for a second.

"Oh, don't mind me Mr. Stark." She mouthed. This woman was going to kill me, or make us lost in the Pacific Ocean. We had Jarvis running a GPS I was given, but she was gaining a little more of my attention than was going to be good if we were going to eat lunch in our bungalow.

With that said, we were there in just about 20 minutes, and it was clear that my mind wasn't on the possibility of food in my stomach. And neither was hers. We left everything in the boat at the dock, barely noticed the interior of the home before finding an overly soft canopy bed that quickly became ours with little protest from either side.


End file.
